


a game for two players

by futureriegan



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Come Eating, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Smut, not quite a spoiler for fire emblem awakening but better safe than sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futureriegan/pseuds/futureriegan
Summary: Sejun would be oh so happy if he could just go through their game night without exposing his stupid crush— and maybe beat Subin in Smash once, too.
Relationships: Im Sejun/Jung Subin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85
Collections: VICFEST®—round two!





	a game for two players

**Author's Note:**

> for vicfest round 2, prompt #491:
> 
> it's very Not epic of subin to have killed sejun Again on the latest game they've been obsessed with. tired of losing, sejun starts a game of dares on his own that he knows subin can't possibly say no to, not even just to kick sejun's ass

_“GAME!”_

“Damn it!” Sejun drops his controller in frustration. He levels an unimpressed look at Subin, the younger nearly dropping from the sofa as his body contorts in a fit of laughter.

While one half of Sejun is worried, the other dearly hopes Subin falls face-first on the floor.

 _“Wii Fit Trainer wins!”_ the narrator announces. Said character performs a yoga pose and cheerfully encourages the audience to _“Work towards taut, firm abs!”_ while her victory theme plays. In the second place screen, Pikachu enthusiastically applauds the winner.

A long-suffering sigh leaves through Sejun’s nostrils when Subin does indeed fall. It isn’t remotely as satisfying as he had hoped and does nothing to curb Subin’s laughter. If anything, he laughs even harder at his own slapstick comedy. Sejun fights the smile that threatens to break out as the familiar scene unfolds in front of him.

It sort of became a tradition, the one weekend every month when they make no plans with anyone else because it’s their sacred time to get together and play video games. Sometimes they’ll play a co-op or team-based game together, sometimes it’ll be a story driven game that they’ll take turns on or just watch the other play entirely. No matter the game, one thing never changes: there’s always an intermission for Smash.

Years of consistently having his ass handed to him have taught Sejun to lose gracefully— at least most of the time. Subin can really put his sportsmanship to the test when he wants to, picking characters he knows Sejun hates losing to and running his mouth nonstop when he’s on a streak.

“Come on, hyung, that was ridiculous,” he barely breathes, greatly enjoying himself. He makes no effort to move from the floor. “You totally botched your recovery and fucked off into oblivion, that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do!”

Well, _yes_ , but Sejun isn’t admitting that one anytime soon, thank you. Not only it was a dumb way to lose, but Subin doesn’t need to know the reason for his distraction.

“Maybe if you choose a character I can take seriously instead of these stupid ones, it wouldn’t throw me off so much!” he fires back, offering a hand to the idiot on his carpet.

Subin takes it, shakes his head with mock disgust once he’s on eye level with Sejun. “The irony, a himbo slandering the Wii Fit Trainer to make excuses for his losses— _ow!_ ”

Sejun punches him in the arm for that joke, light enough not to hurt but still sting, and stomps off to the kitchen to grab more snacks.

“Hey, hyung, don’t be a sore loser, come back!” Subin calls from the living room, amusement audible in his voice. Sejun ignores him, rummaging around to gather what he wants. He’d like to make another batch of drinks to go with the food, but it looks like they ran out of lemons.

Subin follows him to the kitchen, stopping hesitantly at the threshold. “Are you really mad at me?”

Of course he’s not mad. He's exasperated for losing so much, a tad annoyed with the relentless teasing, but not mad. Sejun would never begrudge Subin his fun. He enjoys the younger’s wide smiles and bright laughter a little too much for that. Heck, he doesn’t even mind if it is at his expense, he would gladly make a fool of himself anytime if only to make Subin laugh.

(Yes, Sejun knows he’s ridiculous and whipped, he’s heard it at least once from all of their friends, next question.)

He’s about to answer Subin when he’s stopped in his tracks by a pair of arms wrapping firmly around him from behind.

“Hyung?” Subin tries again, nuzzling between his neck and shoulder.

The worst thing about harboring a crush on your best friend? For Sejun, with how much time he spends with Subin, it has to be the physical contact, full stop. And it used to be so easy too, how they clung to each other for no reason other than wanting to. Lately it just makes Sejun want to run as far as he can, flustered at best and uncomfortably horny at worst.

Unfortunately for Sejun, now is very much a case of the latter.

Goosebumps rise all over his body when Subin’s breath ghosts ever so close to the skin of his neck, and he feels heated from the pressure and warmth of the other boy’s chest flush against his back like this. It makes Sejun’s blood rush south at an alarming pace, a matter not helped by the younger’s hands, clasped firmly over his waist and too close to his crotch for comfort. Subin could easily touch him if he reached out _just_ a little...

Before Subin can notice the reaction he’s eliciting, and also to defuse his own tension, Sejun twists in his arms and attacks the boy with pokes and tickles.

“How could I ever be mad at my Subinie when he’s so cute?” Sejun swoons in an obnoxious voice, punctuating every jab of his finger with a gradually higher-pitched _“Cute!”_

It works as intended. Subin yelps and tries to scurry away from him, but Sejun is quicker and stronger. Using only his arms and keeping a safe distance, he pins Subin against the counter and continues his childish attack until he can feel himself softening and Subin has tears in his eyes.

“I’m not mad, Subinie, but maybe tone down the trash talking.”

“Okay, hyung,” Subin agrees, breathless.

“Also, we’re out of lemons.”

“It’s cool. We can still do shots,” Subin smiles widely at him. Sejun returns it nervously, watches with a distant sense of dread as Subin marches off back to the living room with the bottle of hard liquor in his hands.

“Since you have a problem with my characters, how about a Pokémon battle? Use Pikachu again and I’ll pick a Pokémon to match you,” Subin proposes once they’ve made themselves comfortable again.

Sejun nods and picks his controller back up as Subin sets up their next match. He likes themed battles like this.

 _“Pikachu!”_ and _“Mewtwo!”_ are announced as Sejun and Subin’s choices, respectively. Good, Sejun already has the advantage of a faster character then, even if Subin’s hits harder. He doesn’t dare hope for a win, but at least his defeat may not be so crushing.

_“3, 2, 1… GO!”_

Of course, Sejun’s slight advantage doesn’t hold for long against Subin’s superior skill. Sejun spams Pikachu’s Thunder Jolt to try to break Subin’s momentum, but he either blocks or reflects them with Mewtwo’s Confusion, creating openings to counterattack. As the match progresses, Sejun is quickly down to his last stock, while Subin still has two of the three each of them started with.

“Why are you so good at timing this!” Sejun yells in frustration, furiously mashing his buttons in an attempt to break out of the stun effect of a very well timed Disable.

“Dude, because I’m fucking epic,” Subin grins like a lunatic as he makes the very Not Epic move of charging Mewtwo’s forward smash to launch Sejun.

“No, no, NO!”

_“GAME!”_

“Another one!” Sejun impatiently presses the confirmations on his and Subin’s controllers to quickly skip through the victory screen.

“Another Pokémon battle?”

“No, no themes. Just choose first and I get to counterpick.”

“If I give you counterpick, you’re not allowed to complain if you lose,” Subin warns.

“Deal.”

 _“Lucina!”_ the narrator announces Subin’s choice.

“Weeb,” Sejun snorts disdainfully.

“Says the man who cried when she revealed her true identity to Chrom,” Subin fires back.

“Shut up,” Sejun huffs. _“Fox!”_ is his next pick.

This match doesn’t last long either. Sejun starts stable enough to keep Subin entertained, but as the younger boy inches closer to him on the couch, he grows distracted once more, paying attention to _other_ things.

Say, for example, how Subin’s comfortable choice of clothing, small track shorts and an oversized shirt he stole from Sejun years ago, leave very little of his legs to the imagination. He can’t help himself from stealing glances at the smooth skin on display, or Subin’s tongue peeking out between his lips as he focuses, pink and inviting. Seeing it all happen while Subin wears something that used to be his only compounds on the psychic damage he’s suffering.

The distraction brings another untimely defeat. Subin launches him with an aerial Shield Breaker that Sejun could’ve seen coming from a mile away had he been paying more attention to the game. With his current damage and state of mind, it costs him his last stock.

Subin raises a smug eyebrow at him but says nothing. Instead, he pours himself a celebratory shot while the victory screen rolls in and Lucina declares that _“The future is not written!”_

“I hate you,” Sejun flops miserably on the couch. “I hate you so much. Pour one for me too.”

“No, you don’t,” Subin sing-songs. Sejun can’t argue with that very simple truth. “Here, hyung.”

They clink the glasses together in a quick cheer and knock them back. The alcohol burns on the way down Sejun’s throat but it helps him relax, takes the edge off just a little.

 _You got this, Sejun,_ he mentally tells himself. _Just try to act normal._

The next matches also end in defeat for Sejun, but he makes more effort to stay focused. He’s particularly proud of one when he manages to take a second stock from Subin— a rare occurrence— using Ike (“Who’s the weeb now?” “Shut up”) and a well timed smash attack.

Subin looks at him with mixed pride and annoyance.

“I told you to stop picking stupid characters,” Sejun grins from ear to ear, unreasonably satisfied.

“How dare you defy The Plant,” Subin whispers theatrically with a silly smile of his own. “The Plant shall not stand for this!”

“Your tyranny will end eventually, Jung Subin.”

“BOW TO THE PLANT!”

“GO AWAY!”

Subin then proceeds to chase Sejun around the stage like a maniac instead of actually fighting. They laugh their heads off watching a full grown muscular man with a big ass sword running from the crazed Piranha Plant. He doesn’t even feel the sting of the loss when Subin finally takes mercy on him and launches him off stage, ending the match. They’re still in stitches from the Plant’s silly moveset and animations as they set up the next match.

This is what Sejun’s used to. This is comfortable and easy. It’s just Subin.

 _“It’s just Subin, Sejun-ah. You should tell him,”_ Seungsik had told him gently one time, giving him sensible advice like the annoying sensible person he is. _“You’ll still be friends if he rejects you. He’d never walk away from you because of that.”_

Sejun can’t bring himself to do it. He takes the cowardly route instead, discreetly shimmying further to his side of the couch, continuing to put some distance between them like he’s been doing lately and hope Subin doesn’t notice while he waits for his feelings to pass. It’s hard, with how bright Subin shines under this new light Sejun sees him in, but he has to try.

He manages it for some glorious thirty minutes. As they down another shot and play more matches, Subin seems to forget his earlier promise. The teasing comes back with full force, and Sejun is so annoyed that he can’t for the life of him remember what exactly he sees in the cocky bastard sitting beside him.

It’s when he’s playing Cloud and Subin is Bayonetta that does it for him. Subin launches him off and guards the edge of the stage as Sejun tries to recover. As soon as he approaches, the younger charges his down smash, summoning a demonic high heel to spike Cloud down the stage and end the match. A clear display of utter disrespect.

Sejun is _through_ with this.

“Fuck this game, I’m done.”

He stands up abruptly and throws his controller on the sofa, narrowly missing the foot of the idiot cackling at his rage. It bounces and drops anticlimactically to the floor.

“Don’t be like that, hyung, come on. Let’s play more,” Subin pleads with him, but it’s not very convincing when his eyes are shining with tears of laughter.

“No, we’re playing something else,” an idea crosses Sejun’s mind. It’s stupid and juvenile, not the most dignified way to secure a victory and definitely not a door he should open when he’s not completely sober, but he goes for it anyway. “Let’s play truth or dare. Pick one.”

Subin frowns at him. “That’s no fun. It’s only the two of us, what could we ask each other that we don’t already know?”

Sejun shrugs, a smug smirk plastered on his features. “Then pick dare.”

“Hyung, let’s just play something else, this is stupid.”

“Truth or dare, Subinie?” Sejun sings the question.

 _“Fine,”_ Subin sighs deeply through his nose, making clear that his assent comes with plenty of discontent. “Dare.”

Sejun feels his smirk blooming into a full on grin when he looks at Subin. The boy seems to be expecting some ridiculous and over the top dare, but Sejun’s agenda is much simpler and pettier.

“I dare you to pick your favorite character and let me wipe the floor with them once.”

He watches in slow motion Subin’s expression change as his brain processes the words. The younger barks out an incredulous laugh, eyes hardening with the competitive edge that Sejun knows so well.

“There’s no fucking way I’m doing that,” Subin scoffs disdainfully. “I pick truth.”

“You can’t just change it. You either do it or you back out and get your punishment,” Sejun keeps as much of a straight face as he can while arguing the seriousness of the rules of a teenager party game.

“What’s the punishment?” Subin asks warily.

“You’ll have to take a shot of that thing your dad drinks that made you throw up,” Sejun smiles fondly at the memory. It was back when none of them were old enough to buy their own alcohol and Sejun thought it was a great idea when Subin suggested they raid his dad’s stash.

They were fine until they got to _that_ one bottle. Maybe the stuff was too strong, or maybe they had already mixed up too much shit, but it didn’t sit well with Subin either way.

Sejun knows he’s won. It’s been years and Subin still can’t even look at the thing without feeling nausea.

“One match,” Subin concedes reluctantly. “And you don’t get to brag about it.”

“Alright.”

Sejun rolls his eyes as Subin whispers a quiet “I’m sorry, queen, you don’t deserve this,” to the screen as he chooses Peach as his next fighter. He picks Sonic himself.

It takes a great deal of effort for Subin to control himself and play so drastically below his usual level, Sejun can tell that much from the get go. He groans and whines in frustration every time he holds himself back from punishing, doesn’t use a single smash attack and doesn’t pull out Toad to counter some of Sejun’s more telegraphed attacks. His most active reaction is to trigger Peach’s Parasol for recovery when he’s launched. The game itself isn’t that fun because it’s like playing with a lifeless training dummy, but watching Subin suffer as his pride gets dragged? That’s _amazing._

 _“That was almost too easy!”_ is Sonic’s very fitting comment at the victory screen when the match ends. It sends Sejun into frenzied laughter.

“You have no honor,” Subin tells him flatly, looking at him with a critical expression.

“It’s still a victory and I’ll take it,” Sejun shrugs, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“It’s _cheating_ and I’ll never let you dare me into this again,” Subin huffs indignantly. “Next time ask for something sexual and or embarrassing like any normal dare. Anything would be better than dragging Peach through the mud like this.”

“Anything?” Sejun repeats with a smirk. “Be careful what you wish for, Subinie.”

Subin shrugs. “Anyway, it’s my turn now. Truth or dare, hyung?”

Sejun weighs his options. Truth would be a safer choice, because there’s just no way Subin will pass on the chance to get back at him for using a dare to extort a victory. And yet, like Subin said, what could he ask that he doesn’t already know? Sejun would much rather keep things interesting.

“Dare.”

It all happens very quickly. Subin stands up from the couch, takes a deep breath and turns the TV off. Before Sejun can even ask what this is about, Subin is seated on his lap, straddling his thighs.

“Okay.”

Sejun freezes in this new position, not daring to move an inch. His brain is still catching up to this sudden turn of events. “S-Subinie?”

“I dare you,” Subin says, looking Sejun straight in the eye, “to stop running away from me.”

“I’m not—”

Whatever bullshit lie Sejun is about to tell in his defense is cut when Subin presses his lips against his, chaste but insistent, effectively frying the last of Sejun’s brain cells.

Oh.

“In case it still isn’t clear, because you’re a _moron,”_ Subin exhales when he pulls back, “this means I like you.”

Oh _wow._

“Are you gonna just stare at me, or…?” Subin chuckles, only the slightest hint of nervousness in his voice.

“You— you like me?” Sejun blinks like it’s the most outlandish notion.

“Yes, I believe that’s what I said,” Subin snorts.

“But why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Well, why should I?” Subin retorts. “You’ve known me for so long, I thought I wouldn’t have to. Everybody said it’d be too obvious if I dropped some hints but I still did it anyway.”

That raises a red flag on Sejun’s mind. “Wait, who’s everybody?”

“Uh, all our friends?”

Sejun groans. _Of course_ the assholes would let them suffer instead of pushing them in the right direction.

Still, he can’t even be too mad at them right now when he has a lap full of the boy he wanted for so long. Sejun knows he must be grinning like a fool, but he can’t help himself. He doesn’t think Subin has ever been more beautiful in his eyes than right at this moment, doe-eyed and biting his lip in anticipation of Sejun’s answer.

“I like you too, Subinie,” he finally says, cupping Subin’s cheek. With his thumb, he frees Subin’s lip from his teeth. “Sorry I didn’t tell you before, I was so scared of ruining things between us that I didn’t even pick up on your hints.”

“You’d never ruin anything, hyung,” Subin shakes his head, gently placing a hand over Sejun’s. “It’s just me.”

“That’s what Seungsik hyung said,” Sejun chuckles.

“He’s smarter than all of us,” Subin nods. There’s a decisive glint in his eyes as they sweep over Sejun’s face and land on his lips.

“Now can we kiss properly, or do I have to dare you to do it?”

No, Sejun doesn’t have to be dared to take what he’s been craving for so long when it’s being so generously offered to him like this. There’s no hesitation as he pulls Subin in and closes the gap between them.

This time, Sejun is hungry, kissing Subin with purpose and intensity, feeding off every little noise he draws out as their lips move together. He gasps in surprise and delight when Subin bites down on his lip, prompting Sejun to open his mouth to the other boy’s tongue. Hands wander with aimless intent, feeling everything they can reach, until Sejun’s settle on Subin’s hips, marveling at the trim waistline and sharp hip bones, and he grips tight.

A moan escapes Sejun when Subin slips a hand between them and palms him through his pants, the friction making him dizzy.

“Should we do something about this?” Subin pants hotly against Sejun’s mouth.

“Are you sure, Subinie?” Sejun asks so there’s no doubt. That he doesn’t immediately yell _“YES!!”_ is a great deed of self-control for a man whose dick is being held by exactly the hand of the person he wanted for so long, if you ask Sejun.

“Don’t you want to?” Subin pouts at him and honestly, the power that has over Sejun is so fucking unfair.

“I do, but isn’t this a little too fast?”

Subin laughs. “I think we wasted too much time already, hyung.”

Sejun doesn’t argue with that. He simply nods and lets Subin undo his pants and push them down to his knees along with his underwear, then watches mesmerized as the boy proceeds to kick away his own shorts and rolls his shirt up behind his neck.

In no time Subin’s lips are reattached to his, kissing sloppily because their focus is somewhere else. The boys hiss in unison as they roll their hips to grind their cocks together, and this not being his first erection of the night, Sejun feels about ready to burst.

He moans loudly when at last Subin wraps his hand around the head of his cock and smears the precum there all the way down to the base, before he spits in his own hand and closes it around them both, stroking them together in a comfortable rhythm.

“Fuck, Subinie,” Sejun almost whines, overwhelmed by the sensation of the wet slide of his dick against Subin’s and the squelching noise that’s probably the single most sinful thing he’s ever heard. “I’m not gonna last.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Subin murmurs. He squeezes them tighter and takes advantage of the new territory when Sejun throws his head back in pleasure, placing kisses on the older’s neck. “You can cum if you want to. Cum for me.”

Sejun moans something high-pitched that sounds a lot like Subin’s name and does exactly as he’s told, pearly white covering his hand and dripping to his thighs. Some of it catches on his shirt and Subin’s stomach. The younger boy follows soon after, adding to the mess between them with a raspy, stuttered moan.

“Holy shit,” Sejun pants, “that was—”

Whatever he’s about to say dies on his throat as Subin lifts his hand and, without a moment of pause, starts sucking their mingled cum off them. Not only that, he hums on each finger as if tasting a delicacy, wrapping his lips around them in such a way that the picture he’s painting is all too clear to be called suggestive.

Sejun is sure that this, right here, would spell his demise if he were even a little faint of heart.

 _"Oh fuck,"_ he says weakly.

“We taste good,” Subin comments once he’s done, entirely too casual for someone who's looking so obscene with his face flushed and sweaty, lips stained and shiny.

“You missed some. Come here,” Sejun pulls Subin in, laps at the cum on the corner of his mouth and kisses him filthily, tasting them both in the other boy’s mouth. They spend some more time like this before Sejun nudges Subin to push him away.

“We should clean this mess up. We’re gonna get all crusty,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, right,” Subin eyes the drying mess on Sejun’s shirt sheepishly. “What do we do now, hyung?”

“For the immediate future, you can kick my ass some more after we clean up,” Sejun pretends to ponder for a moment. He knows what Subin is really asking. “And then, I’ll take you on a proper date and ask you to be my boyfriend like I should have done a long time ago.”

Subin grins at him. “Or I can become your boyfriend now, if you want me to.”

“Hey, let me be at least a little romantic,” Sejun chides. “We already did too many things out of order.”

“That’s called an open-world game in my book,” Subin laughs, eyes shining with excitement at what Sejun might be planning for them. “But I guess there’s nothing wrong with a little linearity sometimes.”

* * *

When they awkwardly break the news to their friends a week or so later, Sejun and Subin are surprised to see wallets opening and a rather large amount of money changing hands. Byungchan and Seungsik shake their heads sadly, Seungwoo and Hanse laugh like psychos and Chan watches it all with a placid smile.

“So this is why you all knew and just watched instead of helping us,” Subin says sourly, dividing an ugly look between his hyungs. “Thanks, guys.”

“Sorry, Subin-ah, it wasn’t personal,” Seungwoo smiles, sounding not sorry at all. “Watching you two pine was painful, but the money was too good to pass.”

“I had so much faith in Sejun to do something… I don’t know, grander?” Seungsik sighs wistfully as he and Byungchan pass money to Hanse, Seungwoo and Chan.

“You and Byungchan really are the last old-school romantics on this table, hyung,” Hanse tells Seungsik, cackling almost evilly as he counts his money, then passes a part of it to Chan as well. Seungwoo does the same. “I fucking _knew_ dicks would touch on one of their game nights before they even went on an actual date.”

“Wait, why is everyone paying Chan hyung?” Sejun asks, eyeing the boy in question. “What did you bet on?”

“I didn’t take any bets on _that,”_ Chan explains, nose wrinkled in disgust. Then he smiles apologetically, “but I bet Subin would make the first move instead of you and they all bet against me.”

“Seemed like an easy bet to make at the time, but Sejun hyung keeps disappointing me,” Byungchan mutters, then yelps when Sejun slaps him hard in the arm.

As the table dissolves into chaos, Seungwoo leans in closer to Subin.

“We have a pretty good pool going on Seungsik and Chan, if you want to join,” he tells him in a conspiratorial whisper. Subin grins.

“I’m in.”

**Author's Note:**

> dear prompter, i hope you like this! it was fun writing it.
> 
> thank you for reading and happy vicfest, everyone! :3


End file.
